


.20 Unnecessary Roughness

by LaPilar



Series: Supernatural Imagines/One-Shots [20]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 18+, F/M, Just smut, NSFW, PWP, Pure Smut, Some Humor, doin it in Sammy's bed, football's confusing, he's pissed, smutty smutty smutty, so are these tags but just read it tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 04:54:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15767019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaPilar/pseuds/LaPilar
Summary: The heat's out in the bunker, and you're stuck alone with Dean. You know where this is going.





	.20 Unnecessary Roughness

I only noticed the chill when I threw off the covers and exposed my bare legs to the air. I'd been napping, and a glance at the clock told me I'd been out for longer than planned. Clearly there was something wrong with the heater, or maybe Dean had messed with it, because the bunker was normally toasty. Now I shivered against the invasive air as it forced my arms over each other, rubbing to try to generate some heat.

My bed was calling out to me, more tempting than ever before with all its wool blankets, but I wanted to be able to sleep tonight. So I stepped out of my room, cussing under my breath at the realization that the air in the hallway was even colder than inside my room. 

"Dean!" I shouted, making my way to the library.

"In Sam's room!" came the reply. I veered off to the right before the library door and made it the few yards down to Sam's door. It was open, and Dean was lounging on the bed, watching some football game on tv.

I glared at him, hugging my arms to myself to further my point as I asked, "What's up with the heat?"

He glanced over, taking in my short sleep shorts and t-shirt. "It's out. I tinkered around with the furnace, but no dice. Maybe Sam can give it a go when he gets back, but it's the weekend and no hvac guys are going to be working."

I rolled my eyes and made my way over to sit next to Dean, keeping my legs in close to my torso as I shivered and felt goosebumps rise on my skin. "When will he get back?" I whined.

"Monday probably. Maybe go put some warmer clothes on?" he suggested teasingly.

I glared over at him, taking note of his own basketball shorts and t-shirt. "How are you not cold?" I wondered aloud.

"I run hot." I heard the joke in his voice, and I shoved him on the shoulder. He chuckled and grabbed my hand, tugging me closer to him until I was almost in his lap. 

"What're you doing?" I whined.

"C'mon, I can warm you up."

I gave him a warning look. "No funny business, okay?"

He gave me a sly smile, and I didn't believe him for a second when he said, "Sure thing."

Still, I trusted him, and he did feel enticingly warm, so I slid beside him and rested my back against his chest. He leaned over and pulled the covers up over the both of us. I sighed against his warmth and snuggled in harder, resting my frozen hands against his lower stomach. His abs tensed up, but relaxed after a moment. 

"Can we change the channel?" I whined after a few seconds. "I don't like football."

"Too bad; this is a good game. Just watch, you'll get into it."

A few minutes later, and one of the refs threw a flag out, and they stopped gameplay. "What just happened?" I asked, playing dumb and stifling a giggle at how annoyed Dean seemed at my questions.

"It's a penalty. I think this one is offsides, but there are others. Like a face mask, horse collar, pass interference. That sort of thing."

I nodded in acceptance of his explanation and we watched tv in silence for a few more minutes before I finally admitted, "Fuck you're warm," and shoved my legs up against his, intertwining them and letting his calves warm up the tops of my feet.

"Jesus!" he hissed, almost drawing away as I laughed at his obvious discomfort. "Told you so," he added as he readjusted to me.

I let my head rest against his shoulder, drawing heat from him as we watched the game. I didn't care much for sports, but this was too perfect for me to mind.

He moved with such stealthy slowness that I didn't even notice his head was moving before I felt the press of lips against the side of my neck. His touch warmed me up even more, and I blushed hard as he moved up my neck slowly, just teasing me with soft lips.

Dean and I had never been more than friends, but I didn't stop him. It would've been a lie to say I'd never thought about it before (I mean, look at him). Besides, I could trust him to stop whenever I told him to, and he was warming me up.

He finally reached my earlobe, and when he took it between his teeth and gently tugged on it before blowing hot air across the surface of my skin, I couldn't help the shudder and gasp that ran through me.

He chuckled behind me, and his voice sounded gravelly when he said, "Thank god. I was wondering if you were registering any of that."

"What're you doing?" I asked, keeping my attention on the tv even as I subconsciously moved closer to him. My legs fell open a bit, and I was suddenly acutely aware of every spot our skin was touching.

"Keeping you warm, duh," he quipped, and I could feel the hesitation in his words.

"It's working. Keep doing it," I said, barely above a whisper as I finally let my eyes slide shut.

He didn't need more prompting; his lips were back on me in an instant, this time more aggressive as his right hand tugged me up on the bed, closer to him. I let my left leg fall across his, open just enough as his hand dropped to the top of my thigh, inching closer to my heat.

He was barely touching me, but I whimpered at the feeling, shoving closer to him before finally turning my head to finally get a proper kiss. It was lazy, slow, soft, but I got more and more domineering as his hand ventured further, as if I could get him to give me what I wanted by kissing him wantonly. 

The effort failed miserably. Every single iota of control I sought out, he stole back from me. He took things slow, but when I went fast, he kept up without fail. He was a step ahead of me, every step of the way. When his left hand came out of nowhere and landed right on my heat, I moaned into his mouth, letting him in, surrendering the control I'd been looking for.

"Fuck, y/n," he groaned against me, and without hesitation I meandered my left hand to his crotch, rubbing my thumb over the already-hard outline of his dick beneath his jeans. It made him jump beneath me, and his lips left mine so he could say, "Jesus, slow down there."

"Don't tell me what to do," I argued, flipped over so I could properly straddle him. The sheets fell off, but I was too hot and bothered to care as I slowly lowered myself over him and ground our clothed centers together.

The groan that fell from his lips was nothing short of downright pornographic, and his hands fell to my ass, kneading the flesh there as he urged me to continue. I ran my left hand through his short hair before latching on and tugging it to the side, causing his head to fall to the right as he let out a grunt of surprise. I attached myself to the exposed flesh on the left side of his neck, being harsher than I'd really ever been before, but it felt like Dean was forcing my hand, and besides, he didn't seem to mind. My hands snuck inside the hem of his shirts, feeling the tense of his ab muscles as I left hickey after hickey up and down the entire side of his neck. When I tugged hard on the bottom of his earlobe and dug my fingernails into the flesh of his stomach, he gasped, shoving me away from him by the shoulders.

I sat back immediately, wondering if I'd gone too far. "What the hell," he asked, looking annoyed as he absentmindedly rubbed at the side of his neck. A little smile crossed his face before he said, "That's a penalty. Unnecessary roughness on Y/N Y/L/N."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed, reaching down to the bottom of his shirt even as I said, "Shut up."

He didn't get a chance to respond as I tore his shirt over his head and pressed my lips back to his. Big hands wandered over the bottom of my shirt, soft touches making me whine into his mouth until he leaned back and tugged my shirt off over my head. My breasts fell free, and his hands and eyes were on them immediately, drawing a moan from me as my nipples flew to attention in the cold air.

"Fucking gorgeous," he muttered, hands on my ass yanking me up to a kneeling position before he tugged on my back and forced my chest right into his face. My thighs threatened to give out beneath me as he left his own marks over the tops of my breasts. 

I tugged him off me when he took it to the point of pain, breathless as I managed to stand on the bed, looming over him as I peeled my shorts down my legs. His eyes were on me every step of the way, and as I bent over to step out of them, I took the opportunity to press my lips to his before kicking the shorts off the bed.

It was his turn to surprise me, and as I stood back up he wrapped his arms around my thighs and pulled me towards him. I caught myself against the wall, unable to do anything but allow him to prop my thighs open and slot himself between them. There was no hesitation as he delved into my core, with his tongue at first then his fingers. He sucked at me, hard, and I was unable to do much but roll my hips against his face, holding onto the wall and my sanity as he tried his damnedest to drive me insane.

"Fuck, stop," I finally begged, sliding down into his lap like jelly when he instantly let me go. 

"What's wrong?" he asked, all soft and concerned now.

"Nothing, I just want you to fuck me," I said, working at his jean clasp. 

He didn't seem to have any problems with that, and he popped his hips up to help me slide his jeans and boxers off all in one. His dick sprung up, fully hard already, and I suddenly remembered that I'd stopped taking the pill two months ago.

"Wait. We need a condom," I said, panicking a bit as I knew there was no way I had any in my room.

"Don't worry. I think that Sam.." Dean trailed off, rolling over to rummage through Sam's bedside drawer. In mere moments, he popped back up with the little foil packet and a bright smile. "Little brother, always coming through for me."

I rolled my eyes and fell off to the side of him, snatching the packet and unwrapping it before rolling it onto him. "You can never tell Sam we fucked in his bed, okay? He'll never let it go."

"No worries there." The last word was more of a grunt as I tugged him over me. I spread my legs wide and he eased himself inside me. His eyes searched mine for signs of pain, but there were none. I was so wet already, taking him wasn't much of a problem. The problem was that he wasn't moving yet. 

"C'mon," I begged, pushing back on his shoulders to urge him in and out of me. 

Unlike literally every other favor I'd ever asked of him, evidently in the bedroom he did not need to be asked twice, and I let my eyes slide shut as I felt the delicious pressure of him deep in me and the hot friction as he pulled back out. The motion was easy, natural, like we'd done this a million times already.

"Goddamn, you feel good," he grunted, snapping his hips into mine faster and faster. I gripped his back, nails digging into his skin, but it only seemed to make him more frantic. The headboard was slamming against the wall in no time, and each time it hit I mewled and begged little nothings of Dean, who couldn't have had any idea what I was asking for (even I didn't) but he somehow gave me all of it, and more.

The minutes passed, and Dean kept on. Sweat was dripping off him onto me, mixing with my own, but I couldn't care less. His skin was slick, harder to grip onto, but my nails helped me stay put, and his right hand above my shoulder kept me from flying into the headboard. 

"I'm not going to last here," he gasped, punctuating each word with a thrust.

As soon as he said it, I gave in to the heat that'd been roiling in my lower stomach for the past few minutes. I practically vibrated against him as I came, shouting his name with my release as I felt myself clench around him like crazy. My mind came back to me seemingly slowly, but I was able to watch as he let out one final curse and his eyes rolled back as he came with my tightness around him. 

He stayed fully seated in me until he was satisfied, and I was really only able to catch my breath once he pulled out. There was a small pinch when he did, and I felt more winded than if I'd just killed a nest of vamps. 

He let himself fall to my side, all energy sapped as he draped one lazy arm across my lower stomach and rested his head against my boobs. "I just need, just need a minute," he managed, and I chuckled my acknowledgement, running my hand over his sweaty skin as our heartbeats returned to normal together. 

"Let's do that again," I said out of nowhere, but I knew that if I didn't have the courage to now, then I never would.

There wasn't a hint of reluctance in his voice when he responded, "No shit, Sherlock."

A few days later, I was sitting in the library reading, wrapped in a blanket, when a deep mechanical groan from the bowels of the bunker led to the reengaging of the heat, and suddenly the vents were alight with warmth. My head shot up to the sight of Sam reappearing from the furnace room. He'd gotten back a few minutes ago, and had been in the basement looking at the heating. Dean was still asleep, as far as I knew.

"What was wrong that you fixed it that quickly?" I asked, frowning as I set the book down.

"It was just turned off. The furnace wasn't broken at all," he said, looking mystified as he sat down across from me.

"What the hell?" I asked, but Sam only shrugged.

"Dean must've messed with it. I don't know why."

My mind reached the obvious conclusion right as the elder Winchester appeared at the door to the library in only his robe. I gave him a pointed look, and Sam went to greet him, stopping when he noticed the obvious, if fading, hickeys on the side of his brother's neck. 

"I guess that's why," Sam joked, coming back to his seat as he shook his head at his brother's antics.

"What?" Dean asked, looking confused as all get out.

"Did you seriously turn the heat off just to get me to sleep with you?" I asked incredulously.

His lips turned down as if he didn't regret a thing. "Would you regret it if I said yes?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but his question took me by surprise, and slowly I shook my head, pink lighting up my cheeks as Sam shook his head and Dean only laughed.

"Can't believe you, man," Sam muttered.

Dean pointed at his brother. "And by the way, we did it in your bed, so you might want to change the sheets."

Sam shot up, exasperation in his eyes as he glared daggers at Dean. "What? Dean!"

Dean had already turned tail and shot out of the room, leaving only a wake of hysterical laughter. Sam looked to me, and I only shrugged. "We weren't even going to tell you."

"That.." Sam muttered, then took off after Dean. "You're dead!" he shouted down the hall, and in a second he'd disappeared.

I laughed at their little spat. They were the biggest dorks in the world, but somehow also my favorite people in the world, and I was lucky to have them.


End file.
